


Too Many Men

by catwrites



Series: Open Ice [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hockey, Character Study, Gen, Women in the NHL
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 02:11:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16944999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catwrites/pseuds/catwrites
Summary: North wants to play hockey. It's all she's ever wanted.This is how she got there.





	Too Many Men

**Author's Note:**

> The North short! Howdy. Welcome in.
> 
> 'Too many men' is a bench minor penalty that can be assessed in hockey where you have more than the allotted amount of players on the ice at a time. It felt like it fit this short.
> 
> Super unbeta'd. Basically I just wanted to explore North's journey to the NHL and the things she had to go through to get there.
> 
> So, anyway. Bye y'all.

North starts playing hockey when she’s five. She probably takes it too seriously, plays too intense, but she’s _good_. The kind of good where the parents of the other girls will tell her parents that she needs to pass the puck more. That she scores too much. When she gets older, they’ll say it to her face. 

She alienates herself from her teammates. Then, when she’s moved up to play on a team with older girls, she alienates herself from girls her age, too.

Her mother keeps asking her if she wants to quit. If she really wants to keep playing. Honey, aren’t you lonely? Don’t you want friends your age? Are you sure you want to keep going?

No, she doesn’t want to quit. She won’t give anyone the satisfaction. 

Then, it’s about how women athletes don’t make the same money. They don’t have the same opportunities, so does she really want to keep going? Does she really want to keep playing when, realistically, she can only get are far as college? She’ll make pennies in comparison to male hockey players if she goes on to the pros. She still won’t quit. 

She starts high school, and there isn’t a girls’ team. 

Fuck that. She’ll play with the boys. They aren’t going to cut her career short because they don’t value women athletes the same way. She’ll make waves. She’ll give women the platform they need. 

She refuses to let what she’s done be all for nothing. She hasn’t worked this hard to give up now. 

When she shows up to tryouts, skates and stick in hand, the coach looks at her.

“We don’t have a girl’s program, sweetheart.”

North holds her head high, doesn’t look away. “I know. I want to try out for the team.”

The coach looks at her incredulously. “For the boys’ team?”

North nods. “The flyer said open tryouts, and everyone who wants to tryout will be given the opportunity. There was nothing about not allowing girls to play. I looked into the rules. There’s nothing that says I can’t be on the team.”

“Honey, the boys won’t go easy on you just because you’re a girl.”

“First of all, my name is North, and I’m not expecting them to. I’m good. I don’t need help to make the team.”

The coach shrugs, but the look on his face says he’s humoring her. “Whatever you say, North. Lace up.”

North ignores the boys that stare at her suspiciously as she laces up her skates. She runs the drills when she’s told to. Shows the skating fundamentals they ask her to demonstrate. Takes faceoffs. Stickhandles around the obstacles. Scores on the coach over, and over, and over again. 

At the end of tryouts, she makes the cut. She makes the team. Part of her had anticipated being passed over.

She doesn’t shrink herself to hide away from the glares she gets from the boys who didn’t make it. She doesn’t cower as a few of the more belligerent fathers of the boys’ shout at the coach and gesture her way.

“How did my boy lose out to a girl?”

“She shouldn’t have even been allowed to try out!”

“She won’t last a single game against a bunch of boys bashing her into the boards. They’ll hurt her. You can’t allow this.”

“That’s enough! She made the team. Your boy can’t skate for shit, and North skated circles around almost all of the guys who made it. There’s nothing that says she can’t play, and she’s on the team. End of discussion.”

“I’m going to take this up to the superintendent,” someone threatens.

The coach shrugs dismissively. “You do that, Mr. Jensen.”

“In the meantime, tryouts are over and the final roster has been selected. First practice is afterschool tomorrow. Five minutes after the last bell rings. If anyone is late, you’ll bag skate until I say so.”

North nods along with her new teammates.

It _is_ lonely. She plays with guys who don’t like her or the fact that she’s on the team. She gets dressed out in a locker room all on her own, and spends road trips in empty hotel rooms wondering if her teammates are having fun as they laugh together in the rooms on either side. She eats breakfast alone, works out with no one but the coach to spot her. 

She wants to play hockey, though. She wants the thrill of scoring on a guy three times her size, or deking passed a defenseman that can’t handle her speed or agility. Let them underestimate her. Let them single her out. She’ll take the hard checks. The sometimes-dirty hits. She’ll take it all. She’ll draw the penalties, and then she’ll burn them for it on the powerplay. 

She’ll go in on the forecheck. She won’t shy away from going in against the boards. She’ll take the suicide passes up the middle when no one else will.

She’ll play for her team even when they won’t play for her. 

She gets scouted in her senior year, gets an agent, and then goes undrafted. 

She doesn’t cry when her phone doesn’t ring. She shrugs off her mother’s hand on her shoulder and goes down to the basement. She sends shot after shot into the mouth of their old dryer. It rattles and echoes with the metallic clang of it. If they think this is the last of her, they’re dead wrong. She decided a long time ago that she was going to play hockey. She’ll do whatever it takes to get there. 

She sends a vicious shot in and it hits the dryer with a satisfying clatter. Like the period at the end of a sentence, she’s sealed that promise to herself with a perfect shot. 

Her first step is with the SPHL, where she signs a one-year deal with the Columbus Cottonmouths. Georgia is a long way from home, and the SPHL is a long way from the NHL. She’s living off $200 a week, but she’s playing hockey, and for the first time in her hockey career, her team actually _likes_ her. She has teammates that will invite her over for dinner, or out on the weekends. They’ll go to movies on their off time, and people save seats for her on the bus during road trips. 

It’s not the NHL, and she knows she wants more, but it’s good. For once, it isn’t just playing hockey that she enjoys. She likes every aspect of it. Her billet family, and the team experience that she missed out all her years before this. The responsibility and the trust she gets from the coaching staff and the team leadership. This is what she wanted from playing hockey. 

For as much as she loves her team, and her team accepts her with uncharacteristically open arms, she doesn’t get that warm welcome from the other teams. Or from the press. 

( **’Girls Playing Hockey?’**  
**’First Female Skater Signs with Male Pro Team. Why This is a Bad Move.’**  
**’Goalie’s We’ve Seen, but Now There’s a Female Winger Playing Pro with the Boys. Is This a Bad Idea?’** )

She hears all sorts of shit from reporters, and trash talk on the ice. It makes her blood boil, but she puts all that anger and hurt into her hands and onto the scoresheet. They’re going to notice her one way or another. Might as well be noticeable in the way that counts. 

It’s in the SPHL that she learns to fight. 

She pulls one of the veterans on the team aside at practice one day. He’s one of the oldest guys on the roster, and he’s constantly looking out for the younger players, so they all affectionately call him Papa. 

(“Look, as long as you don’t call me Daddy, we’re fine.”)

He also has a slit lip from defending _her_. She thinks it looks like it could have needed stitches, but he doesn’t have any. She knows the under the table rule about stitches. The bonus cash given for each stitch earned on the ice. She thinks the fact that he didn’t get stitches is a statement to her. He wasn’t fighting for the money, he actually gives a shit that someone was trash talking her. It’s a first, having someone willing to take a punch for her, but she doesn’t want to be a sore spot for all the guys. She doesn’t want them to constantly be on edge, ready to defend her when they should be focused on the game. 

“I can’t hit you,” he says, looking scandalized. “Not even pretend hit you.”

North scowls. “Look, I take the checks, and I block shots, and all that other stuff you guys do. No one bats an eye. You won’t always be there to take hits for me, and I can’t be unprepared for the day that someone isn’t as noble as you about it. You think Wilson would think twice about taking a swing at me?”

Papa is hesitant, holding her jersey like he would a significant other’s hand until she lands a gentle hit to his chin. 

“Please. I can’t make it in this league, let alone the NHL, without knowing how to stand up for myself. I want to play hockey. That means everything that goes along with it.”

He relents, though he tells her repeatedly as long as she’s with the Cottonmouths, she won’t need to do this. She agrees easily enough, but two weeks later, her gloves are off her hands in a game.

Papa is a crumpled ball on the ice by the Zamboni door, arms up around his head. It’s not even a conscious thought when she drops her stick and flings her gloves away.

“You’re fucking crazy,” the guy from the other team tells her, eyes wide, when the refs finally pull her off.

There’s blood on her face running down from what is possibly a broken nose. 

She wipes her nose on the arm of her jersey. “Make sure you remember that the next time you take a cheap shot in my arena.”

Papa leaves the game, and doesn’t come back. Undisclosed upper body injury, they say. Hearing that, she doesn’t regret it. Her face hurts and her knuckles ache, but she doesn’t regret it. 

\----

She plays two seasons for the Cottonmouths, and is ready to sign on for a third, when her agent calls her. 

She’s doing off-ice conditioning with a few teammates who are slowly trickling back after the offseason when her phone rings. She lets it go to voicemail. She’ll check it after she finishes her set.

Except, her phone rings immediately after it stops. She frowns. It stops, then rings again.

“Someone is important, huh?”

She rolls her eyes. “Whatever, Monty. Pay attention. Your form is off, and you’re going to hurt your back.”

She stands and goes to get her phone out of her gym bag. “Hello?”

“I need you to get on the first flight out to Detroit.”

“Detroit? What’s in Detroit?”

“The Red Wings. I’m sure you saw they’ve been bought out. Well, their new owner and GM have taken quite an interest in you. They’ve called me twice, now. I promised them a meeting. You don’t have to take anything they offer if you don’t want it, but they want to speak in person. They’ll reimburse all our travel expenses. We just have to get ourselves there.”

North can feel everyone watching her. She clutches her phone tighter to her ear. “You’re shitting me.”

“Get on the plane. I’ll meet you at the airport.”

“Yeah, yeah. Of course. I’ll see you in Detroit.”

She stands in stunned silence.

“Detroit, huh?”

North turns to look at Papa, and the rest of her teammates watching her from their spots scattered around the gym.

“I mean, maybe? They want to meet with me. I won’t put too much hope on it. It’s a long shot, I’m sure.”

Monty scoffs. “Don’t sell yourself short. You’ll get an offer. They’d be stupid not to.”

So, she gets on a plane. Pat is waiting for her at the airport, as promised, and they head straight for Detroit’s front office. 

North is unusually nervous as she’s lead into a meeting room.

The first thing she hears when she walks through the door is: “Oh, Chloe she’s perfect.” 

North pauses uncomfortably in the doorway.

She recognizes Elijah and Chloe Kamski from the press releases after ownership of the team changed hands. 

Chloe glances at Elijah sharply. “If you can’t be professional, I will ask you to leave.”

“That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?”

North clears her throat. “I don’t.”

Elijah turns to look at her, eyebrow raised, before he grins. “I apologize for my exuberance. I’ve been following your career closely since you went undrafted. I was worried you’d get signed by another team before I could offer you a place myself. There’s so much you could bring to this team. Please, sit.”

North crosses her arms over her chest, but makes no move towards a chair. “Look. I want to make this perfectly clear. I’m a hockey player. I’m here because I want to play hockey. I’m not a publicity stunt, and I won’t be a sideshow to draw an audience. I know the Wings have been struggling with their attendance. I know the kind of media circus that surrounds me, and the attention it’ll bring a struggling team. If that’s all you want me for, I have an offer with a team who respects me as a player waiting back in Columbus.”

Elijah opens his mouth, but Chloe cuts him off. “Be quiet, so help me, Elijah.”

Chloe smiles warmly at her. “That’s not at all what we want you for. We’ve had scouts watching you since we planned to buy the team. We know your numbers. You’ve got a raw talent that’s almost unmatched. With the resources we have here, in the NHL, you could develop into something incredible. Detroit has some of the pieces to be good, but we need speed. We need goal scorers. We need players like you.”

Chloe sits and gestures for North to join her at the table. Elijah hangs back, apparently deciding that Chloe’s threats are to be heeded. North sits.

“You’re right about our attendance being down, and you could definitely help us with that. I want you to understand that we think that because of your speed, and your playmaking abilities. People want to watch a team that’s winning. You’re going to offer us viewership by making the team better. Not because you’ll be the first woman. You’re going to be a core part of our team, if you make it out of camp. We want to offer you a PTO, if that puts your mind at ease. If you don’t perform up to standard, we’ll look for other options, but right now, you’re our top pick.”

The fact that they want to offer her a tryout does make her feel better. They talk details, and housing, and dates. North leaves in a daze. A real shot at the NHL is in front of her. She’s so _close_.

She goes back to Georgia and packs as much as she can into a duffle bag and a carry-on. A few of her teammates from the Cottonmouths take her to the airport when she has to go.

“We’re here if you need us,” Monty tells her, yanking her into a tight hug.

Evan nods in agreement, and adds, “Remember us little guys, okay?”

Papa hugs her last. “If anything happens, call me. If you just need to talk, or if you want someone to come get you, call me. Whatever you need. You’re always a part of this team, okay? Don’t forget that.”

North told herself she wasn’t going to cry, but then her teammates had to go and say stuff like that. She can feel herself tearing up.

“Good luck in the NHL. Don’t take any shit. You’re too good for that.”

“I’ll see you guys later,” she says, picking her bags up off the ground. She smiles at the guys, and walks into the airport.

Georgia has been good to her, but it’s time to move on. 

**’First Woman to be Offered a Professional Tryout with an NHL Team’**  
**’Red Wings New Owner and GM Already Causing a Stir’**  
**’A Look at Kelly North’s Hockey Career So Far’**  
**’Kamski Making a Mockery of the NHL in His First Month as Owner’**  
**’Women in the NHL? What Next?’**

\----

She’s used to being the odd-one out. She’s used to the looks and the whispers that follow her around. Being used to it doesn’t make it any easier. Her potential teammates watch her intently from the start, but none of them really say much to her besides quick introductions. Outside of that, she’s practically on her own.

Every training camp always starts with an off-ice physical assessment that she easily passes. 

The on-ice stuff is a little more challenging, but she feels like she’s keeping pace with everyone pretty well. That more than anything is probably what gets her noticed by her potential teammates.

“What now we’re allowing little girls to try out? We that desperate to find an audience?” A pair of skates appear in her line of vision.

North doesn’t look up from where she’s taping her stick. “Don’t take it out me because you think it’s you that I’ll be replacing.”

There’s an angry sputter and the sound of muffled laughter. She finishes her stick, and the skates are still there, so she looks up.

She knows enough of Gavin Reed and his style of play to recognize him in front of her. She raises an eyebrow, waiting, and he eventually scowls and stomps away as well as one can in skates on the locker room carpet. She turns back to her stick, but then someone sits in the stall next to her.

“Hey, I think it’s cool that you’re here. I’ve seen some of your reels from the SPHL. You’re good.”

North glances over. Markus Manfred was the first overall draft pick in the same draft class she could have been in if everyone hadn’t passed her over. He’s a Detroit prospect now as he finishes out his degree in art history or something. North only vaguely pays attention to prospects and scouting reports. She’s never on a radar, so why would she?

“Yeah, thanks.”

“I’m Markus.” 

“North.” 

She shakes his hand when it’s offered to her, but doesn’t offer up much else. Markus isn’t going to be on the roster at the end of camp. He’ll be back to college, and it will be another two years before he’s on the team. She needs to focus on the guys she has to impress. Like Gavin fucking Reed. 

At the end of camp, Chloe sits her down with her agent and a contract all written out.

Pat looks at her and shrugs, then nods with a smile. “It’s a good one. I’d sign it.”

So, she does. The flourish of her signature is a little shaky with how her hands tremble, but it’s her name, on an NHL contract. No two-way deal bullshit, either. She’s a bonafide NHL player. Everything she’s worked so hard to accomplish is right in her reach.

**’Detroit Falling Farther in Quest for Wins’**  
**’Red Wings Players Quiet when Asked About New Teammate’**  
**’Other Players Around the League Sound Off on Detroit’s Kelly North’**  
**’Women Are Too Delicate to Play Baseball: A Look at the History of Women in Sports’**

 

**[Cottonmouth Chatter]**

**Papa, 3:03pm:** Congrats kid.  
**Monty, 3:04pm:** !!!  
**Ev, 3:04pm:** You’ll get us tickets, right?  
**me, 3:05pm:** Thanks you guys. If you find yourself in Detroit, I’ll see what I can do. I get allotted tickets for family, after all.

\----

North knew she would be under scrutiny. She knew this would be hard, but she didn’t really grasp the full extent of it. No matter what she says, no one takes her seriously. No matter how she does on the ice, people will criticize her play. They ask the boys about their training, and their thoughts going into making a play. They ask her what she wears in the locker room and what she eats to stay in shape. 

“Excuse me, I scored a goal in the second. I also had a fucking nice pass to set up a goal in the third. We could talk about that too,” she says, leaning into the mic closest to her.

There’s an awkward hush in the press room. She smiles tightly. “I’m a hockey player, not a model. You don’t need to know what brand sports bra I wear.”

She stands up. “If you want to talk hockey, you know where to find me. Otherwise, I’m done taking press.”

**’Kelly North Refuses to Answer Questions with Media’**

North was ready to be the first. She wanted to open up doors, and she wanted to play hockey. She wanted to make this a reality for any woman who wanted it. Now, she’s not so sure. It’s hard. It’s lonely, like when she was in high school and everyone left her a wide berth. She can’t say the right thing, she can’t make the right play. If she misses a shot, there are article after article about if she’s fit to be in the NHL. If she takes a shot when there was a pass open, it’s about her lack of play making. If she makes a pass and doesn’t take the shot, it’s about her confidence. 

There’s no winning. Damned if she does, damned if she doesn’t.

Then, after practice one afternoon, she goes out to see the fans that sometimes hang around for autographs, and there’s a little girl standing in the line. She’s hiding behind the leg of her farther, but the second North appears through the door, she pushes forward. 

“North!! Dad, dad, look! Look, it’s her. It’s _her_.”

North pauses in surprise. No one is usually there to see her. She comes to a stop in front of her, and then drops down to her knees to be on level.

“Hi there. What’s your name?”

“Charlotte,” the little girl says, suddenly bashful. 

“That’s a great name. Can I sign something for you?”

Charlotte nods eagerly, and tugs on her dad’s pant leg. He hands her down a little jersey and a sharpie. 

North runs a hand over her number and name on this little girl’s jersey. She hasn’t seen her name on any fan’s back, but here it is. 

“You’re my favorite,” Charlotte says.

“Me?”

“Yeah! I want to be just like you when I get older. Dad says I can start hockey in the spring.” 

North signs the jersey and glances up at the father. 

“She never stops talking about you. She always hated watching hockey with me until I told her Detroit had a woman playing for them.”

North smiles. “You want to play hockey, huh?”

“Uhhuh! All the boys in my class say girls can’t play hockey, but I said, yeah, they can because North plays hockey. North is the best, I told them.”

North is going to get choked up because of this little girl. “Can you wait right here for me? I want to get you something.”

Charlotte nods. “Okay!”

North stands up and walks back into the locker room. 

Charlotte lights up when she sees the stick North has in her hand. “You’ll have to grow into it, but you’re going to be a great player, Charlotte. Don’t let anyone tell you different, okay?”

“I won’t!”

“Can I have a hug?”

Charlotte launches herself across, nearly smacking her farther with the hockey stick, and North hangs on tight. 

North thinks, maybe, it might be worth it.

She video calls Papa (and subsequently most of the Cottonmouths) once a month. Sometimes twice if she’s feeling really down.

She tells him about Charlotte, and he scoffs at her surprise. “North, half the kids I see now just want to ask me about you. ‘You played with North? Wow! What was she like? Was she the coolest ever?’”

“Get off it,” North says, rolling her eyes.

“Seriously, North. You’ve got a big following. You’re changing the game, whether you know it or not.”

She doesn’t get a chance to respond to that before there’s a lot of noise in the background.

“Is that North? Let me have the phone, I have to show her-“

“She doesn’t want to see your stupid-“

“Papa, let me talk to her first!”

“Hi North!!”

She laughs, and talks to her old team for the next couple of hours.

North makes it a point to talk to all the little girls after that. The ones that wait for her outside the locker room after the open practices, and the ones that see her out in public. She’s going to bleed the team dry of sticks and pucks, but she doesn’t care. 

She’s the only woman in the game these girls have, and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t do them justice.

\----

North’s first fight in the NHL is the result of the dirtiest play she’s ever seen. She’s playing on a line with Gavin Reed and a minor league call up from the Griffins. Everyone has been calling him Pickles, so she isn’t quite sure what his name actually is. 

Gavin has been trash talking the opposing team’s forward all night. She’s heard it, but kept her attention on the game. She’s not entirely surprised when eventually the Kings’ forward decides enough is enough, but she is surprised by how brutally he finally takes his stance. 

It’s mid-play, and North is watching Pickles, waiting for a pass from their zone. Gavin is near center, also watching the puck. He doesn’t see the white jersey that comes up behind him, and he definitely doesn’t see the stick blade until it smacks him right across the face and gets up under his visor. 

North’s attention immediately turns to center, to Gavin hunched over, blood dripping down onto the ice as he holds his face. 

Gavin’s normally the one to get into fights, the one to defend teammates, but he can’t fight for himself because he’s too busy bleeding. Pickles is a rookie, so it’s unlikely he’s going to go after the huge forward that just did that. The defensemen are too far on their side of the ice. 

That leaves North to get involved before the refs get do. She’s the closest one. She’s the only one close enough to get in there before the refs kick the guy out of the game. 

Her gloves hit the ice. She tries to remember what she learned from the SPHL as she gets her hand tangled into the right jersey. 

“Don’t think I won’t hit you just because you’re a bitch,” the guy says, sneering at her through his mouth guard. 

She grins at him, and punches him in the jaw. 

Once the fight is broken up, she’s lead off down the tunnel so the trainers can look at her knuckles. She split them on the plastic of the douchebag’s visor. 

Gavin is getting stitched up on one of the tables. His eyes follow her across the room. 

“How bad?” she asks him, not looking up from her bleeding knuckles.

“17 stitches,” Gavin says, before he hisses in annoyance. 

“Stop moving and that won’t happen,” the trainer replies. 

There’s a beat of silence. One of the equipment guys comes in with a full cage mask, handing it to Gavin. Gavin takes it as the trainer finishes his nose. 

“If we weren’t in the NHL, that’d be a pretty fat bonus,” North comments.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Gavin says, interrupting her.

“Of course. I’m a woman, and I shouldn’t fight, right? I can’t defend myself, let alone someone else.”

Gavin slides off the table and walks over to stand in front of her. “That’s not what I fucking said, is it? I just meant that if he was willing to blind side me with his stick like an absolute piece of shit, what made you think he’d fight fair?”

North blinks in surprise. She hadn’t exactly thought about it that way, and Gavin seems to be honestly concerned under his clipped tone. 

“Oh.”

“Oh,” he parrots back, rolling his eyes. 

“That’s going to be an ugly scar,” she says, changing the subject.

Gavin smirks. “I thought ladies dig scars?”

She shrugs her shoulders. “You have to have a good face first, and unfortunately for you, this definitely isn’t going to help you there.”

Gavin laughs, surprised. “Yeah, you definitely don’t pull your punches.”

She grins. “I didn’t get here by accident, honey.”

“I’m starting to see that. Don’t take too much longer in here. Would hate for you to miss out on your time in the penalty box. First fighting major in the NHL. Gotta do your time the right way.”

North watches him go. They’re not friends, really, but North thinks he might be the closest she has to one on the team. He at least isn’t afraid of talking shit to her, which the rest of her teammates avoid like they’re afraid of offending her. He’s still an asshole, but he talks to her like an equal barring their brief exchange during training camp. 

She’ll take what she can get.

\----

The first real friend she has is a callup from the Griffins. The right wing on her line pulls his groin, so they call up Josh. 

North likes Josh. He jokes around with her, but isn’t afraid to call her out either. Josh plays with them for two months, and he does good when he’s in the lineup.

It makes it hard, when the winger she’d been playing with is healthy again, and Josh gets sent back to Grand Rapids.

North hopes maybe he’ll be with them full time soon. They keep in touch, though, which she thinks is a start.

Simon gets traded to them midway through the season from St. Louis, and finally she has a teammate she likes completely that’s here to stay. The playful animosity she has with Gavin is nice, but there’s something so relaxing about being able to sit around with Simon. Simon is soft-spoken and laid back. A bit weird, like most goalies, but who isn’t a little weird? 

Josh gets a permanent callup when they make a run for the playoffs. They don’t make it, but North is finally having an overall goodtime. 

The media still won’t leave her alone, and the fans can be hard on her, but Simon, Josh, and (sometimes Gavin) are there, and the rest of her teammates are finally coming around.

\----

Markus finishes his degree and shows up on their roster at the start of her third season. There’s something about Markus that demands attention. Initially, North can admit to being a little resentful of him. She’s been playing topline minutes, working her ass off, and they’re lauding Markus as some hockey God that’s going to come in and be the reason they win games. 

They’ve been doing fine without him while he did his college thing. She’s been keeping this team one the upward trend. She’s been working hard as an alternate captain. They haven’t had a captain since their previous one retired in the middle of last season, and she’s been hoping maybe they’d give it to her.

They offer Markus an A in his first season, and they run captain-less instead. She’s a viable captain, but she sees the writing on the wall. It makes something unhappy curl in her stomach. She knows what’s coming when they offer him the captaincy in his second season. 

Markus is just so fucking nice about.

“I just want to make sure you’re okay with this. I won’t take it if not,” he asks her, all earnest wide eyes. 

She rolls her eyes and deflates. “Just take the C, Markus. You’ll be a good leader.”

She means it, is the thing. He will be a good leader. He’ll be a good captain. It doesn’t mean she doesn’t see it as a slight against what the upper management thinks of her.

She complains to Gavin about it later. 

“I could have been captain. Then they offered it to Markus instead. It’s not fair.”

Gavin snorts. “Listen, North, you’re great but they wouldn’t offer you a C the same reason they wouldn’t offer me one.”

She glares at him. “Why’s that?”

He shrugs, wrinkling his nose. It makes that awful scar stand out more. It feels like a lifetime ago she was getting into her first fight because someone gave him that. They’ve been through so much on this team, on this team longer than most of the other guys, and then they offer the captaincy to the new guy. She doesn’t think it would bother her as much if they gave the C to Gavin. Maybe.

“Come on. Penalty minute leaders. Mouthy with the officials. Bad at postgame press. Not exactly shining examples for rookies.”

She scowls. “Fuck that. I’m a model player.”

“You took a misconduct just yesterday for calling the official a ‘wart on the game of hockey’.”

“He missed a goalie interference on Simon, and then gave Chris a high sticking when the other guy hit himself with his own stick.”

Gavin holds his hands up. “Hey, I agree with you, which again, why they’d never offer me a C. Hell, they won’t even give my dumbass an A. They at least trust you with that. Sometimes, you just have to accept what you get. Now, did you want to watch this show with me or not?”

North lets it go. Gavin is, on some levels, right. She does take more penalties than is probably considered captainly. Whatever.

North can’t really stay upset with Markus anyway. He’s just so easy to get along with. He’s easy on the eyes, too, which North ignores as best she can. She’s yet to make an exception to the no-teammates rule she gave herself, though she thinks Markus wouldn’t be a bad one to make. She’ll table that thought for later.

\----

The day Detroit gets Tina Chen is one of the most exciting of North’s life. Not only is there another girl on the team, (and another maybe exception to her no teammates rule) but that means what she’s doing is working. 

She’s changing the game. She is.

**’Detroit’s Kelly North Pens Heartfelt Player’s Tribune Article. A Must Read.’**

 

**It's Worth It** by Kelly North  
_When I started playing hockey, my mom kept asking me if I was sure. Are you sure you want to do this? Are you sure you want to give up all these other things for a sport? I was sure. I wanted to play. In high school, when there wasn’t a girls’ team, again, she said to me, ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’. I was sure._

_When I didn’t get drafted, she asked me again. I was sure._

_It’s been a long road to get to where I am. I’ve worked hard. I’ve had to work hard. Harder than most. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to accurately describe how hard it’s been._

_The value we place on women, and women’s sports, is so small in comparison to the kind of treatment we give men. Women can be athletes, same as men. I didn’t really want to have to be the first one to prove it. It just had to be that way._

_The truth is, I wasn’t sure. I’m still not sure. It’s hard being first. It’s hard to be the one everyone looks at as an example. I have to be so careful. I have to be sure. Sometimes, though, it’s worth it._

_When I see little girls wearing my number, holding signs for me, it’s worth it. When my teammates tell me I’m doing a good job, when the coaches compliment my play, it’s worth it. When I score a goal, and the building cheers for me, it’s worth it._

_So, if I could go back and talk to my younger self, that’s what I’d tell her._

_It’s hard. It’s never not going to be hard. You won’t always be sure, but that’s okay. It’s worth it. You’ll meet some great people along the way. You’ll change your sport. You will. You’ll make it so that other little girls won’t have to go through what you did. Eventually, there will be other women playing in the league with you._

_Your teammates won’t like you in high school. That’s okay. The guys in the SPHL will call you family. Will still call you on your birthday and holidays long after you leave their league. One day, you’ll be in the NHL and your teammates will love you. You’ll be where you always wanted to be, and you’ll know that everything you ever did to get there, all the pain and the heartache you went through wasn’t for nothing. It’s worth it._

_You won’t always be happy. Hell, for a lot of the start, you aren’t. You will be. You’ll have friends. You’ll get to make jokes, and laugh, and your heart will be full. In the end, you’ll be overflowing with it. In the end, you’ll look back and you’ll be sure: It’s worth it._

**Author's Note:**

> SPHL: the Southern Professional Hockey League is one of the lowest tiers of professional hockey. The Columbus Cottonmouths are a defunct team that was in Columbus, Georgia. They did in fact have a female goalie for nearly three seasons. Shannon Szabados played 49 games (pretty standard games played for a backup) for them, and is the first woman to post a shutout in men's professional hockey. 
> 
> In the ECHL (East Coast Hockey League, two tiers below NHL), based on a blog post by a former player it is said that each player earns $1000 per stitch they earn on the ice to compensate for their astonishingly low pay.
> 
>  
> 
> I think that's all for now, y'all. Thanks for reading. Comments loved.


End file.
